Summer Rain
It’s cliche. So very painfully cliche and if Clint were to see any other couple do it he’d be rolling his eyes and laying in with the sarcastic comments. He’d saw it in countless romantic movies (movies that had been forced on him, of course) and every time it happens he scoffs and makes pointed comments about how they should be running for the car or shelter and that it’s not gonna be quite as romantic when they’re driving home later in soggy clothes, chafing and irritable.
But here and now, as he feels the press of Pietro’s body against his, as he tangles his hands in the soaking strands of Pietro’s hair, as they laugh into each other’s mouths as the rain washes away their carefully planned picnic, he suddenly understands.
As the warm summer rain plasters their clothes to their bodies until it feels like they’re skin to skin, Clint finally accepts the fact that the movies have it right. Kissing in the summer rain is incredible.
*
He would still like it pointed out that the drive back was every bit as uncomfortable as he’d imagined it would be.